


And I Can't Remember a Damn Thing(But That Love)

by serenelystrange



Category: Leverage
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Humor, everyone gets a happy day goddammit!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelystrange/pseuds/serenelystrange
Summary: This is just pure Christmas fluff. Cookies are eaten, cocoa is sipped, snuggles are had! Our favorite Hitter, Hacker & Thief enjoy a quiet holiday together with no threat of murder! Because they deserve it.





	And I Can't Remember a Damn Thing(But That Love)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiss_me_cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/gifts).



> For @kiss_me_cassie : Sorry that I couldn't make your prompts work, but I hope you enjoy this piece of ridiculous fluff anyway! :)

“The key,” Eliot says, pointing at Parker and Hardison sternly, “is to never, _ever,_ use water.

Hardison huffs out a laugh at him, but Parker nods solemnly, as if Eliot were telling her the secrets of the universe.

“Or even worse,” Eliot continues, “ _skim_ milk.”

“It’s just water pretending to be milk,” Hardison agrees dryly, having already heard Eliot’s hot cocoa lecture several years ago.

“Exactly,” Eliot says, waving his whisk in the air for emphasis.

“Can I still use marshmallows?” Parker asks, looking over at Eliot with hopeful eyes as she clutches the package of mini-marshmallows to her chest.

Eliot cracks a smile at that, his expression softening as he takes in her excitement.

“Of course,” he says. “Who doesn’t love marshmallows? Especially on Christmas Eve.”

“Nate,” Parker and Hardison say in unison, before cracking up with laughter.

Eliot just rolls his eyes and shrugs, before giving them a delighted grin.

“More for us, then,” he says, and gestures to the supplies laying on his kitchen counter.

“Let’s get to work.”

.

“I’m so full, I’m going to explode,” Hardison groans from where he’s sprawled out along Eliot’s couch, clutching his stomach dramatically.

“But it was so good!” Parker exclaims, taking the opportunity to climb onto the couch and perch cross-legged on Hardison’s shins, grinning down at him with a sugar-fueled glow in her eyes.

“So good,” Hardison agrees, even if it comes out as a whimper.

“Wait till you try the cookies!” Eliot calls out from the kitchen, where he’s moving around at an alarming rate between various mixing bowls spread out over all the counters.

Hardison groans again and reaches out to clutch Parker’s knee.

“I’m not gonna make it, babe. Bury me with Eliot’s snickerdoodles!”

“There, there,” Parker says, patting Hardison’s hand in mock comfort.

“Don’t patronize me, woman,” Hardison grumbles. “I’m too full.”

“Shh,” Parker says, unfolding her legs and repositioning herself to shimmy down next to Hardison on the couch, turning them both so that she’s tucked against his chest with his arms snug around her waist.

“Nap with me,” she demands, wriggling around until she’s nice and comfortable and Hardison’s heat is perfectly spread out across her.

“Eliot!” she calls out after a minute, when she starts to feel her eyes droop.

“What is it?” Eliot asks, coming into the living-room to glare at Parker with his hands on his hips, the effect lessened somewhat by the fact that he’s wearing a flour-covered apron that’s decorated with snowmen and Christmas trees.

“Afghan us!” Parker says, smiling up at him sleepily. “I’m full and cold and ate all the cookies, Eliot. All of them.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Eliot says, too fondly for his own liking.

He goes over to the closet and gets the thick crocheted blanket anyway, bringing it back and spreading it out over the pair, stopping just short of actually tucking them in.

Hardison is already fast asleep, face half-smushed against Parker’s hair, but Parker murmurs out a thank-you to Eliot before she closes her eyes, letting the warmth around her and the smell of cookies in the air lull her to sleep.

.

Hardison wakes up slowly, brain coming online in little increments. The smell hits him first, sugared chocolate and the fancy coffee Eliot loves so much wafting through the air. And then he hears the music, something jazzy and vaguely Christmas related that he’s sure Parker cajoled Eliot into allowing her to play. Finally, he realizes that the sun has set at some point while he was sleeping, and that Parker is no longer cuddled with him. When he focuses, he can hear her talking with Eliot in his bedroom, voices hushed and broken up with occasional laughter.

Deciding to investigate, he stands up and stretches out the kinks in his limbs before heading toward Eliot’s room. He’s about to announce himself when he gets to the doorway, but stops short when he sees Eliot and Parker. They’re dancing, or trying to really, but he supposes it still counts. The jazzy Christmas music is louder here, which is probably the only reason neither of them have noticed him yet, but he takes advantage of it and leans against the door-jam to watch them move. Eliot has his arms around Parker, one hand against her back and the other curled around her waist and resting on her hip, fingers fluttering in time to the music. Parker has her arms around Eliot’s neck, her fingers threaded loosely through his hair, toying with the ends. They’re flush against one another and swaying more than anything, but Parker’s cheeks are tinged pink with happiness and Eliot has a genuine smile on his face, even when he has to keep shuffling to avoid Parker’s bare feet stepping on his toes.

“Hey,” he says, after watching for a little while longer. “How come I wasn’t invited to the dance?”

“No geeks allowed,” Eliot teases, twirling Parker around so that she’s leaning against him, her neck resting comfortably against his shoulder.

Parker kicks Eliot in the shin with her heel for his comment, and rolls her eyes at Hardison.

“You looked comfy,” she says, “we didn’t want to interrupt your sleep.”

Hardison smiles at that, charmed by the notion of being so cared for, even after all this time.

“Nah,” he says, coming over and tugging on Parker’s hand, who spins into his arms like she’d rehearsed it somehow. “Eliot’s just trying to steal my girl,” he continues, pressing a kiss to Parker’s cheek before sticking out his tongue at Eliot.

“Our girl,” Eliot corrects, “unless you’ve already forgotten last night.”

“And the last two years,” Parker adds.

Hardison wants to argue just for the fun of it, but damn it, he can’t handle when they’re both being so sweet.

“I could never,” he answers instead. “Pretty sure even one of Eliot’s concussions couldn’t erase you two from my brain.”

“Aww,” Parker says, “that’s sweet. What if…”

“We are not testing that theory, Parker,” Eliot interrupts. “I’m not giving our boyfriend a concussion!”

“On purpose,” Hardison injects, because he can still sometimes feel the phantom pain of his skull smacking into Eliot’s solid oak headboard.

“That was one time!” Eliot says, “I didn’t think you’d bounce that hard!”

“It definitely killed the mood,” Parker agrees.

“You know those people at the E.R. knew what was up,” Hardison laughs, remembering several scandalized faces as the three of them had stumbled into the hospital.

“Parker _was_ still in her lingerie,” Eliot concedes.

“I’m pretty sure everyone still had lube like…everywhere,” Parker adds.

“I had to throw those jeans away,” Hardison says, sadly. “I loved those jeans.”

Eliot scoffs. “I bought you new jeans! And I bought a new headboard!”

“And my skull thanks you for it,” Hardison says, reaching out his arms around Parker to make grabby-hands at Eliot.

“Yeah, well, you’re no good to me dead,” Eliot grumbles, but he moves to them anyway, letting himself be pulled into a quick kiss by Hardison, with Parker pressed deliciously warm between them.

“Hear that, Parker?” Hardison asks. “He admits he likes us better alive. That’s basically a declaration of love from Eliot Spencer.”

Parker snorts in laughter and loops her arms around Eliot’s waist, keeping him close as she looks up at Hardison with a mischievous expression.

“Eliot’s already declared his love for us. I think his exact words were ‘fuck, fuck, don’t stop, I love you so much, right there, _there,_ don’t you dare fuckin’ stop!’”

Eliot flushes red at the memory, which Parker and Hardison find outright adorable.

“You can’t hold what a man says in bed against him after the fact!” Eliot says, moving to pull away, only to be stopped by two sets of hands holding tight.

“We love you too, you beautiful dumbass,” Parker says, taking Eliot’s stillness as a chance to leap up and wrap herself around him, legs secure around his waist.

“We do,” Hardison agrees, taking a step back to admire how gorgeous his lovers look together.

“You better,” Eliot huffs, “nobody else is going save you two from eating cereal and orange soda for every meal.”

“I’ll have you know, I had a vegetable just last week!” Hardison says, giving Parker’s back a little nudge.

Eliot takes the hint and walks backwards with frankly enviable coordination until he bumps into the bed, and then spins Parker around and deposits her onto the mattress with a gentle bounce.

“No concussions,” he promises.

Hardison comes up beside him and grins down at Parker, who has leaned herself up on her elbows to smirk up at the two of them, jiggling along a little bit to the still-playing music.

“Orgasm time!” she declares happily, “my favorite!”

Hardison and Eliot are hard-pressed to disagree.

.

.

Nate and Sophie come over for breakfast on Christmas morning, passing along shiny wrapped gifts in exchange for plates of Eliot’s homemade waffles and preservative-free bacon.

“This is lovely,” Sophie says after, running her fingers down the soft vintage fur coat that Parker presents her with.

“It’s from all three of us,” she says. “It was very expensive. From the store. Where we definitely bought it. At a register. With money.”

“You stole it, didn’t you?” Nate asks, quirking an eyebrow at her in amusement.

“We stole it,” Hardison confirms. “For old time’s sake.”

“I didn’t get to punch anyone, though,” Eliot says. “That was disappointing.”

“Next time!” Parker says. “We’ll steal something even better next year!”

.

When everyone is full and Eliot is finally sitting still, Hardison and Parker scooch him until he’s sitting in the middle of the couch and they can each take a seat on either side of him.

Sophie and Nate settle beside them in the overstuffed loveseat, and Sophie snags the remote control to find a Christmas movie they can all agree to watch.

When they inevitably devolve into arguing about whether or not Die Hard can be considered a Christmas movie or not, she gives up and ignore all of their squabbling and choose the movie herself.

“It’s a Wonderful Life?” Nate asks, groaning. “A little heavy-handed with the moral lessons, don’t you think?”

“Says the man who makes it his mission in life to teach people lessons,” Eliot counters, grinning over at Sophie who smirks back at him.

“I’m retired!” Nate protests, studiously ignoring the scoffs from the other four.

“Semi-retired,” he amends. “Fine, let’s watch the movie and drink this hot chocolate and have a freaking Merry Christmas, alright?”

“Merry Christmas!” Parker cheers, raising her mug of cocoa gently in the air.

“Happy Christmas,” Sophie adds, settling down against Nate as the movie starts.

“Thanks for all of this,” Hardison whispers to Eliot once everyone else is focused on the movie.

“It’s nothing,” Eliot says, shrugging.

“I know your secretly-pleased face, Eliot Spencer,” Hardison says, voice low and soft. “That is definitely your secretly-pleased face.”

“Yeah, yeah, watch the movie,” Eliot says, nudging Hardison’s shoulder with his own.

“Merry Christmas, El,” Hardison says, pressing a little bit closer to him, just because he can.

“And a Ha-ppy New Year!” Parker sings quietly from Eliot’s other side.

Eliot just laughs warmly at the fools that he loves, and takes a moment to appreciate everything he has, even after everything that he’s lost. At least for the moment, it is indeed a wonderful life

.

The end

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my roomie for giving me a title when I had nothing! It comes from a Twin Forks song and is ridiculously sweet!


End file.
